Ships of light and dark.

in #family7 years ago (edited)

Running. Laughing.

Knowing people. Wanting people.
Strangers and Friends.
How they are that and then not in blink of an eye.

Friends started to mean a great deal to me later on in life.

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Thinking back-My childhood was always clouded by my parents marital problems to which they always clued me in on.

Details on how their issues developed were never left off the menu:

Dad- Letting me know their marriage only came about due to my mothers pregnancy and that there was in fact - No Love in the marriage

Mom- Making me aware of how little of a sex life they had and how I always played a part in that.

Dad- Always reminding me of how mentally unstable my mother was-especially during full moons.

Mom- Still reminding me of how my dads not fucking her and enjoyed perusing the idea of him fucking the mothers of my classmates.( She would go on to do humping motions to a table or chair when having one of these episodes.)

It even clouded 9/11 for me.
We were right across the river.
But when people ask about that day and How I remember it...I think about my parents throwing books and pillows at each other before taking me to school. I think of my mother yelling obscenities in Spanish. I remember my dad banging his fists against the walls and doors in anger. I remember coming home and not finding my pet birds. I remember so much more than the tragedy of the outside world.

But when people ask about that day I tell them about the smoke we saw outside the class window and the kids being called down stairs who's parents worked in the towers. (To my knowledge the families of my school weren't terribly effected.)

Family is family. Tragedy is tragic. Life goes on.

I love my parents dearly. I did then and I do now. They've apologized for more than just this and so have I... because I played a part in it as well.

I was a "daddy's girl" back then and when looking back I can see how unfare that was to my mother. She had been putting herself through nursing school. That's where her focus was. Whatever was leftover went to their relationship and then to me.

So when I'd yell the names and words that I had learned from them back at in their face, it was always my mother who caught the most spit.

They divorced by my age of 12.

At that time my only friend in school was this girl who was never my friend. Instead she was someone who would use my obvious flaws/insecurities against me; laugh with the other children over things like my weight, body odor, and hair. (Having been too focused on their divorce, dramatic as it was, my parents neglected to address the challenges I had been facing.)

In hindsight I could have been more outspoken about the issues.

6th, 7th, & 8th grade made me strong. I dealt with being the fat smelly girl and kept a smile on my face. Even when a girl would cry for having been selected to be my science partner. (Thankfully that only happened ONCE.. poor girl)

I didn't run home and cry to my parents.

I never confessed to my older sisters.
(17 years older from my mothers first marriage. They were the most positive parts of my life. The eldest being my strongest role model. They get a separate post.)

I would often either try to help myself in silence or just let it go and move on.

High school #2 was wonderful.
There were 3..

The first one kicked me out for skipping first and second period for a better part of the year. It was an all girls Catholic school that was closely affiliated to my Catholic grammar school that i had attended from kindergarten - 8th grade.

My second high school was my first ever public school. I could be myself inside and out. My parents had settled into single life by this time and I found it easier to focus on myself.

My first batch of close friends were made during the summer courses I took before starting my first year entering the new school. Another friend that I had gotten to know through 3-way phone calls and MySpace- became (and still is) a great friend in real life during this period.

I left high school # 2 after having moved into a house where this guy I had been seeing was staying in. Partying became a lifestyle and going to class at 7am became a drag.
I had only needed 15 credits for senior year from having kept credits from my first H.S and having started out as a freshman again in my second.

After 6 classes in H.S #3 they allowed me to go out into the world and mailed me my diploma 5 months later. It was awesome.

There is so much more to my life than these moments.

What I wanted to share in this post is my need for friendship or want? And why that is. But I got lost and now I'm tired.

Figuring out how to tie this all together to explain how I'm feeling has become exhausting and I might just end this here.

I am happy for the most part. I have a wonderful boyfriend and one-through the thick- close friend that I don't see very often.

4,909 miles away from family and friends of 10+ years. I might just be a little bit home sick.

I'll have you know with having said what I said about my parents, my dad is still my homie and I have a wonderful relationship with my mother now.

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